Not a day goes by that there is not a new social media trend.  A new dance, a new prank, a new voiceover. Virtually all of them are here today and gone tomorrow. But there is one trend that seems to have an impressive amount of staying power and that is the We Do Not Care Club.

Melani Sanders started The We Do Not Care Club in May, which in the social media world is like a century ago. She was going through menopause, a difficult time in many women’s lives, and she realized that there are certain things that she simply no longer cares about. She sat in her car, turned her phone’s video to face her, and started recording: “We do not care what our hair looks like from the back, we cannot see the back.” “We do not care if we made plans yesterday. If we didn’t sleep last night, those plans are cancelled.” “We do not care if we don’t show up for the family cookout. Most of you have undiagnosed trauma that we honestly just don’t want to deal with right now.” And on and on about all the things that in this stage of life, she has no space for in her mind and just does not care about. She asked her followers to share things they no longer care about and the lists came in fast and furious.

This trend spawned endless imitations. Educators started the Teachers We Do Not Care Club in which teachers expressed their frustrations with excessive demands and unrealistic expectations in the education system by stating they “do not care” about extra decorating expenses or unnecessary professional development. We Do Not Care Clubs were created for every profession and every stage of life.

No one started a Rabbis We Do Not Care Club. But if they did it would go something like this: “We do not care that your lunch today is planned for 1 PM or if you don’t like my sermon. If you want to leave, leave.”

“We do not care if you do not like the color of my tie. I am not sure why you think this is something you should be weighing in on.”

“We do not care that you were not seated next to your best friend during services. You are not here to talk.”

The truth is all these imitations really missed the point. Melani Sanders was not just complaining. She was shining a light on all the things that do not really matter in life. When she spoke about wearing pajamas all day, because “clothes is clothes,” what she was getting at is how ridiculous it is that we spend so much money and time on clothing. When she said she does not care about people who think she has a bad attitude, she was highlighting how much energy we expend worrying about what other people think about us. The We Do Not Care Club, at its core, is a reminder of how much of our time and resources we expend on things that don’t really matter.

***

The great psychologist and writer, Irvin Yalom, begins his classic book, Love’s Executioner, with the following passage. He is describing a retreat for successful professionals:

“Imagine this scene: three to four hundred people, strangers to each other, are told to pair up and ask their partner one single question, “What do you want?” over and over and over again.

Could anything be simpler? One innocent question and its answer.

And yet, time after time, I have seen this group exercise evoke unexpectedly powerful feelings. Often, within minutes, the room rocks with emotion. Men and women—and these are by no means desperate or needy but successful, well-functioning, well-dressed people who glitter as they walk—are stirred to their depths. They call out to those who are forever lost -dead or absent parents, spouses, children, friends: “I want to see you again.” “I want your love.” “I want to know you’re proud of me.” “I want you to know I love you and how sorry I am I never told you.” “I want you back—I am so lonely.” “I want the childhood I never had.” “I want to be healthy—to be young again. I want to be loved, to be respected. I want my life to mean something. I want to accomplish something. I want to matter, to be important, to be remembered.”

So much wanting. So much longing. And so much pain, so close to the surface, only minutes deep. Destiny pain. Existence pain. Pain that is always there, whirring continuously just beneath the membrane of life.”

What do you want? What really matters?

That is the question at the core of the We Do Not Care Club and its popularity. It’s at the core of existential psychotherapy, a field of therapy that Yalom created. And it’s at the core of what we are doing here today.

Like the people in Yalom’s exercise, we fill our time, we fill our mind, we fill our lives with so much that distracts us from what we really want.

On a typical day, the average adult spends 2 hours and 24 minutes on social media. The average adult spends a little less than five hours watching television. Which when you do the math – between social media, television, eating and sleeping, you have to wonder if anyone actually works anymore.

Have we become better people because of all that time glued to our devices? More refined? More driven? More loving?

Unwinding is healthy, but at what cost?

How many times have we ignored a loved one because we were too busy scrolling? “What did you say?”

How many children feel unloved because the only time they see their parents lock eyes, it’s with their screen?

Sometimes our distractions are holy distractions.

The other day I was on the phone with a rabbi from another community helping him set up a beautiful program ensuring children of single parents have someone to sit with in shul. Does not get more important than that. Right?

Only that Miri, my five-year-old was pulling on my leg. She was trying to build a home out of magna-tiles and they kept falling down. I kept motioning to her, one minute, one minute, one minute. I am on the phone, I mouthed to her.

Until it hit me, what’s wrong with me? I am setting up a program to ensure that children have adults in their lives, and I, one of the two most important adults in my child’s life am ignoring her?!

How many times have I been distracted with the loftiest of distractions taking me away from what and who really matters?

What do you want? What really matters?

Stephen Covey, in The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, distinguishes between Proactive and Reactive People. How do you know if you are proactive or reactive? He suggests that we draw a circle of concern – what are the things that we use our emotional energy on; our family, our job, national debt, politics, the situation in Israel, the Ravens. Then draw a second circle within that circle around the things that we have some level of control over. It’s usually a much smaller circle – our family, our job, our immediate community.  For proactive people these two circles are more or less aligned. We spend time and emotions on the things we can change. Reactive people typically have a far larger circle of concern than a circle of influence. They spend endless emotional energy and time on things they cannot control.

Most of my colleagues are speaking about Israel this morning. I’m not and I feel a little guilty. It is on everyone’s mind; Gaza, Netanyahu, the hostages, the Charedi draft. These are important matters and I feel strongly about each of these topics. But can my opinion or your opinion on any of these topics change anything at all? Can we really move the needle on these issues? Maybe, for some of them, just a little, but not much. Our circle of real influence, for most us, ends at these shul walls, with family, with friends, and with our immediate community.

And so, on this holy day, instead of talking about what is important in Israel, or across this country, we’d be far more constructive if we ask ourselves, what is in my circle of influence? Because that is what really matters.

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Rav Yehuda Amital was an incredibly accomplished man. A survivor of the Holocaust, founder of the Hesder Yeshiva movement, first Rosh Yeshiva of the elite Har Etzion yeshiva, he even established his own political party and served briefly as a minister. Exceptionally smart, ambitious, and accomplished. Despite his brilliance and the brightness of his students- or perhaps because of it, every Rosh Hashana, he would give variations of the following speech.

The Shofar, he would suggest, represents simplicity. On Rosh Hashana we do not turn to G-d with words because words, even words of prayer, can distort what we really want and who we really are. So we turn to Him with a simple sound from the depth of our hearts. With the blow of the shofar, we are trying to tap into our core; we are trying to focus on who in our life and what in our life really makes a difference.

This is the exercise of Rosh Hashana. וְכָל בָּאֵי עוֹלָם יַעַבְרוּן לְפָנֶיךָ. Every one of us, over the next hour and a half, is going to stand before G-d. All our charm, all our defense mechanisms, all our fancy clothing and witty one-liners are stripped away. He strips away our intellect, He strips away our social status. He is trying to get to the truth of who we are. And the higher the truth of something, writes Rav Kook, the simpler it is.

And all He wants to know, is what do you want? What really matters?

Is it the exotic trips around the world? Or will I focus on changing the world – or at least my immediate surroundings?

Do I really want to look good? Or will I invest my time this year into being good?

Do I want to be popular, or do I want to be kind?

Will I spend all my energy caring about the people outside my home? Or will I focus on those who depend on my love and care? Those in my small little circle of influence.

As we listen to the simple Shofar blast, let’s try to answer these simple set of questions – What do you want? What really matters?

 

Allow me to conclude where I began. The We Don’t Care Club. I wrote a small poem, not humorous in any way, but imagining what G-d’s I Don’t Care Club would sound like.

I do not care what shoes you wear.

I do not care which sports teams you follow.

I do not care where you went on vacation.

I do not care about the great book you borrowed.

I do not care how much you weigh.

I do not care how many friends you have.

I do not care if your house is clean.

Or if you follow the latest fads.

 

And you know what else I don’t care about?

 

I do not care if you love or hate Trump.

Nor if you’re pro-life or you’re pro-choice.

Of course, these are important,

But how much of a difference can you make with your one voice?

I do not care if you think Chareidim are enemies of the state.

You do not live in Israel; why are you wasting so much hate?

And so I beg of you –

stop expending time and energy on things you cannot change.

Your days and years are dwindling, who knows how many remain?

 

What I DO care about is the little circle that I placed you right inside,

A few friends, some family, community, who rely on you to provide –

A smile, understanding, forgiveness, to try to be a good Jew.

There’s nothing else I care about, and neither should you.